


Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa

by dark_lord_cuddleslut



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Confession, Fluff, M/M, Master/Servant, Oral, Satanism, Worship, blowjob, church, clothed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:12:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6599905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_lord_cuddleslut/pseuds/dark_lord_cuddleslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Papa senses that Omega needs to get something off his chest. The ghoul is unerringly obedient, but tortured. Will he get the chance to confess?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa

“Papa,”

The Dark Pope lounged in his throne. His elegant chasuble draped over the chair, almost completely masking it. Were it not for the presence of his hands on its arms and its gilded feet poking out from just beneath his papal vestments, it would be impossible to tell whether he was sitting or floating. “Come, child.”

A black-clad figure rose from the darkness, his footsteps muted against the long carpet running the length of the nave. The light of the candles disappeared into his black vestments, but caught on their silver embroidery, flickering sigils dancing, illuminated, on his chest. “How may this ghoul serve you?”

Papa Emeritus III smiled. “Omega, my beloved.” He held out an bare hand, presenting a bejeweled ring. “Please. Approach me.”

There was no expression on the blank, masked face, except for his eyes widening slightly at the pope calling him by name. The carpet ended, and his boots clicked softly as he traversed the crossing. His breath quickened slightly as he approached the elegantly robed figure, heart pulsing in his throat, straining against the starched collar. His footsteps slowed. Taking a knee before the throne, he lifted a hand to the jaw of his mask, and removed it. As if to encourage the ghoul, Papa extended his hand just slightly, fingers still. Gingerly, Omega slid his hand into it, and pressed his lips to the garish ring. He lingered for a long moment before withdrawing, his breath condensing on the faceted gem.

Papa’s head tilted as he continued to smile. “You serve so eagerly. It pleases me.” Omega’s head stayed bowed. Papa’s hand moved to gently cup the ghoul’s chin, and lifted it up. Reluctantly, the ghoul’s eyes met his with a mix of fear and awe. Where he had expected an unholy and untouchable being, he found gentleness. Love. Even in the anisocoria of his eyes - even in the gaunt ritual paint that covered his features - Omega felt a deep love for the highest of all profane priests.

“Papa…” he uttered again, overcome by the sight. The pope’s hand slid from the ghoul’s chin to his cheek, softly stroking it, before motioning for the ghoul to rise with him. Obediently, the unmasked servant stood slowly.

“How fortunate am I to be attended to by you, Omega.” Papa’s voice echoed through the silent cathedral in its soft tenor, belying a younger age than his papal regalia might suggest. The longer he spoke, the more Omega savored the pope’s accent. Perhaps English was maybe a force of habit, but the ghoul couldn’t help but wonder why Papa preferred using it when they both spoke his native tongue. It’s a poetic language, he thought to himself. “His Infernal Majesty has blessed me with you and your brothers.”

They faced each other for a long moment, Papa Emeritus admiring his ghoul, Omega clinging to each word spoken by the dark pope. “It is we who are blessed, Unholy Father.” A hand fell gently on Omega’s shoulder, the pope’s chasuble brushing up against the ghoul’s chest. Without another word exchanged, the pope turned in the direction of the nave, and taking Omega by the hand, led him down the aisle, between the pews, in silence and dim light.

There were moments when the cleric’s hand moved against Omega’s. Whether or not Papa was leading the ghoul anywhere, what seemed more important was the walking. In their shared silence, the most delightful sounds became clear. The soft hiss and crackle of incense being sprinkled on coals by the younger acolytes. The pop of burning pitch in the wall sconces. The faraway rumbles of thunder penetrating the stone walls of the cathedral. The sound that Omega enjoyed most of all was the rustling of Papa’s vestments - layers upon layers of shifting linen, and pearlescent buttons against moire silk.

Omega was led to a place he had been many times before - the confessional. Obediently, he opened the door to the priest’s room. Papa nodded his head in a slight bow before entering, and the ghoul closed the door quietly behind him. Omega drew the curtain to the penitent’s compartment and knelt on the velvet cushion on the ground. After digging in his robes, he produced a small book, and opening it, placed it on the small lectern now before him. “Belial, Behemoth, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Satanas, Lucifer. Hail Satan, Archangelo.” Even without needing to read from the gilt-edge book, the ghoul bowed his head before the dark screen before him where the faint silhouette of Papa Emeritus indicated his presence.

“Satan our Master opens His heart to we who sin. Child of the Lord of Hell, let Him hear your sins that you may receive his embrace.”

The throbbing in Omega’s throat intensified. “Father, hear the sins of your son, boldly committed to the glory of Your name.” He was silent for several seconds. Eyes darted to the little book, but the thin pages offered him no help. He knew the burden of his sins were his alone to carry here - just inside this small booth, kneeling before the body of Satan on Earth. He glanced reluctantly back up to the shadow of Papa’s face. Omega’s head tilted to one side, and after a breath, sighed quietly. There was no running from it now. The Dark Pope’s ear was inches from his lips, awaiting the ghoul’s confession. “F-father…” he began, voice trembling, “Papa… I…” Omega swallowed.

“Do not be afraid, child. Your sins lend their power to Satan. He adores you for your devotion.” Papa’s face turned slightly toward the obscuring screen. “He loves you,” he added softly.

“I have been… gratifying my desires… without confessing…” Omega stuttered. “For many years.”

“Your body is a gift from our Master. He is pleased that you enjoy it. Tell him… how you enjoy it.”

The ghoul tensed. “There is only one who arouses my passions. I think of him, and…” There was a growing hardness underneath his robes. “It consumes me. I imagine what it would be like to… to…” He sighed, reaching a hand down to move against his erection. Compressed by the starched leggings, it quickly became uncomfortable. “I would give myself to him. Completely. For the glory of Satan, I would yell his name like a curse into the night.” Omega’s brow knit, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Papa…” he whispered, again trailing off.

“Child, your sins give strength to Satan, but there is a trepidation in your voice as though you fear punishment. Why is your victory like a burden to you?”

“I cannot have him. I cannot be had by him.” Omega’s voice cracked. “Body and spirit I crave him, but… to be… to be so close to him… is torture. To please myself when it is his hands I want to feel on my body is deeply unsatisfying. Yes, I sin, yes, I take pleasure in the gift of my body, but it is a hollow celebration.”

Papa’s head slowly turned to more completely face the screen and the ghoul behind it. “Tell me, Omega, how you want me…”

Omega moaned, hastily opening the front of his leggings. His length sprung free of them, throbbing against the air as the ghoul replayed Papa’s words in his mind. Without bothering to remove his glove, he grasped it firmly, unable to keep from thrusting into his hand. “Like only an apprentice could want his master, I crave to please you like a craftsman desires skill, I want the touch of your hands like the candle needs the flame to fulfill its purpose.” He gasped, eyes shooting open at his own inability to shut his mouth. “Even now in this sacred and unholy place I cannot hide the arousal you cause in me.”

“Show me, my beloved ghoul.” There was an echoing thud as the pope kicked open the door to his compartment. Omega froze for a moment. Standing quickly, he pushed aside the curtain and stumbled in front of the now-open door. Papa Emeritus smiled and nodded, lasciviously eyeing the panting, exposed ghoul. “Yes… yes. Good.” He smoothed out his chasuble before leaning forward to facilitate removing it. Folding it, he laid it down on the ground. “Undress me, child.”

Omega’s eyes widened. He knelt before the cleric, reverently placing his hands on Papa’s legs. He looked up at him with a mix of confusion and desire. The pope nodded. Omega continued, tracing the opening of the cleric’s alb. The outer robe had little to keep it closed - only a cincture at his waist, which was easy to untie. The folds of the alb fell open without complaint, revealing a long row of pearly buttons that trailed from Papa’s collar almost all the way down to his ankles. He closed his eyes and felt his way to the lowest button, unfastening it with obvious pleasure. It was not the first time he had undressed the cleric. On multiple occasions, the ghouls helped Papa with his elaborate vestments. Had Omega not practiced this a thousand times in his mind, he would still have more than enough experience to deftly open the pope’s robes. However, now that there was something other than liturgical regalia on his mind, he found the task daunting. With hurry in his voice, he chanted the names of satan while his hands worked their way up the cassock. “Belial, Behemoth, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Satanas, Lucifer, Belial, Behemoth, Beelzebub…”

“The blessing of Satan our Master is with you,” Papa’s hands moved to his collar, beginning to unfasten buttons in the ghoul’s direction. “For you sin without shame.” The gap between them narrowed, each button moving them closer together. It was only a matter of seconds before their hands met at his hips, but Omega felt hours pass. “Show me your visions.” Papa let the unbuttoned cassock fall open, exposing his erection to the trembling ghoul. Golden piercings decorated his shaft. A row of bars with shining balls at each end lined its underside, terminating at the head with a small, smooth bone skull. He gently removed Omega’s gloves, exposing a thin, wide silver band on the ring finger of either hand. “Show me.”

Omega moved a hand from the edge of the cassock, and slid it across Papa’s lap before allowing it to grasp the ornately-pierced shaft. He sighed, a quiet moan barely escaping his lips. His other hand drifted down Papa’s leg and between the ghoul’s own legs, reaching for his own aching cock. The last wisp of Papa’s words intoxicated him. Leaning forward, he guided the cleric’s erection toward his lips. After an inaudible prayer, Omega reverently kissed the head of Papa’s cock. It twitched toward him, the shaft throbbing in his hand. “Oh, Papa,” he sighed, “how I have longed to taste you.” He pressed his lips against it again before daring to slide his tongue along its flared edge. It was only a matter of seconds before impatience devoured him, compelling him to take the cockhead between his lips, sucking it into his mouth as his hand firmly guided Papa’s shaft deeper.

“Omega, my beloved…” Papa moaned, not quite losing his composure, but clearly anticipating the moment just as much as the ghoul had been. Omega’s tongue was now sliding against the row of gilded piercings as he slowly took as much of it in his mouth as he could. Papa’s hips pushed upward helplessly, unable to keep from thrusting against the back of the ghoul’s throat. It was clear that he wasn’t as practiced as the cleric had expected, and at the touch of Papa’s cockhead against his throat, he gagged instinctively and withdrew quickly with a gasp. Strands of saliva bound them together as a panting Omega gazed up longingly at the Dark Pope. Genuinely apologetic, Papa frowned and placed a hand on the ghoul’s cheek. “Mea culpa.”

The ghoul shook his head. “It is I who should apologize for failing to please you.”

In turn, Papa shook his own head, locking eyes with the reluctant ghoul. “Look at how you please me.” His eyes flicked downward to his own erection, still straining at the air with each beat of his heart. Cum oozed from the tip in anticipation of being reunited with Omega’s warm and welcoming mouth. “It wants more.” he whispered. “For the glory of Satan, indulge!”

Omega did not need further encouragement. In a moment, his mouth was again wrapped around it. His hand gripped it firmly, and being slick with saliva and precum, Papa’s shaft slid effortlessly against the ghoul’s grasp. Each time his head dipped down, Omega managed to push Papa’s cock further into his mouth, slowly and hungrily managing to fit every inch inside. Papa’s head fell back. It took every bit of strength he could summon to not thrust into the ghoul’s mouth, but he was cautious not to hurt the beloved and willing creature. To say Omega was merely willing would be an understatement - the ghoul was ravenous. His head bobbed up and down on the Dark Pope’s twitching cock, using his tongue to caress the ladder of piercings on its underside. Omega’s left hand returned to his own waiting erection, which was aching for release. With stark contrast to how gently he treated Papa, his grasp was tight, his movements rough and needy. 

“Omega,” Papa gasped, “Yes, Omega! My love!” The ghoul’s eyes darted up to meet his, and it was a sight too beautiful for the Dark Pope to behold. “Ave Satanas!” His cock throbbed inside the ghoul, and as Papa gasped, he unloaded his thick seed into Omega’s hungry mouth. The ghoul moaned helplessly, surprised by the feeling of new warmth in his mouth. Hearing Papa come was more than enough to bring Omega over the edge. With a few quickened final thrusts, his cum shot out in spurts, dripping over his hand. As he swallowed, his lips sealed more tightly around Papa’s shaft, causing the cleric to shudder and moan Omega’s name yet again. After holding Papa in his mouth for a long moment, the ghoul reluctantly withdrew. His head came to rest on Papa’s thigh, and the two caught their breath together.

Tears welled up in Omega’s eyes. As he knelt before the highest of all high priests, spent and exhausted, his arms came up to reach for him. He grasped handfuls of Papa’s alb, clinging to him. Unable to keep from holding them back any longer, the ghoul’s tears fell wet against Papa’s leg. “I love you, Papa… forgive me.”

“My child… my beloved child…” Papa reached out to gently stroke Omega’s hair. “There is nothing to forgive.” He reached out to grasp Omega’s arm, gently pulling him off his knees. Leaning forward, he spoke softly to the ghoul. “Kiss me, beloved Omega.”

The ghoul fearfully acquiesced, rising slightly to meet Papa, whose hand came to rest on the maskless face. Strands of Omega’s cum stretched down to the floor, breaking off as he stood and pooling on the cold stone. Their lips met, eliciting a quiet whimper from the ghoul. Papa was quiet, cradling Omega’s head closer to his. Trembling, the ghoul collapsed into Papa’s lap, and rested his forehead against his neck.

Papa Emeritus held the ghoul in his arms, hands gently stroking his arms, his back, lips pressing against the top of his head. “Tell me how you love me,” he whispered against Omega’s forehead.

Omega shook his head slightly against Papa, overwhelmed by the musings in his heart. “With a love I once felt only for the beautiful Old One, a fervor reserved for Lucifer, the Morning Star, the Bringer of Light, our Illumination.” He clung tighter to the elegant clothes, now parted and disheveled in the wake of unchecked passion. “You are His body on Earth, and in devotion, I worship not out of duty, but love. I have a greater love for you than the limitless and insatiable lust that has tortured me for all the years I have known you.”

Papa’s embrace grew tighter for a long moment. The two men were curled up in the cramped confessional, Papa half-naked, Omega exposed and growing soft against his black, linen leggings. Quiet returned to the cathedral. There was no chorus of moans, no exhausted breaths, no hurried rustling of vestments, only the familiar rumble of thunder breaking in the distance.

**Author's Note:**

> Took about 3 days to write, couldn't stop. Had a great time, definitely going to spend more time in Ghost fic hell. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Thank you Ghost for being such an inspiration. I love and respect you guys. Your music has a profound impact on me. I really hope this kind of thing isn't too offensive, your music just makes me feel... uh... well.... good :) In a lot of ways, some filthier than others. It's a thing you seem to encourage in your devout followers, and I am glad to glorify your name! Hail Satan!


End file.
